SOUTH PARK: Trans-warped
by Tharpdevenport
Summary: The boys once again find Eric abusing something to his own personal advantage. And only one man can stop it.
1. Chapter 1

Stan, Kyle and Kenny wait at the school bus stop on a beautiful and slightly cool Spring day. Eric walks into the frame.

"Hey, you guys."

"Cartman," Stan says.

"Kyle, it's okay for Jews to say 'Hello', in fact, I could get you a yellow Hello sticker and you could wear it," says Eric.

"You're so fat, Cartman, I'm having a hard time figuring out if the fat hunches your back like that or if you're just Quasi fucking modo."

They all laugh at Eric.

Kyle continues, "You're such a Goddamn whale-ass if you did do a fucking jumping jack it would be like an asteroid slamming the Earth and wiping everyone out. You make fucking Jupiter look like the speck of dust Horton heard the Who's from! And that's just in comparison to your ass!"

They all laugh hysterically at Eric.

"Well?" Kyle says and they die down.

"What?" says Eric, looking down.

"Usually you have some kind of retort," says Kyle.

Stan says to Kyle, "Ow, Word-a-Day calendar."

"I know," says Kyle.

"No. You're right, Kyle," says Eric.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, NO," says Stan.

"What?" Kyle asks Stan.

"He's up to something."

Eric continues to Kyle, "You're absolutely right. I've known for a long time I'm fat."

"Well … good, glad you've finally accepted reality," says Kyle.

"Yes. I'm not just fat. I'm not just overweight. I'm neither obese nor morbidly obese, no – I'm fucking huge."

"Okay, well maybe not that big. As much as it pains me to say it," says Kyle.

"No, Kyle, I am epically ginormous."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Kyle, please – don't deny reality. I shatter all Guinness World Book of Records records."

"Ahhh, no you don't," says Kyle.

"I do."

"Cartman, you're fat, but not that fat," says Stan.

"No, I am; you see … I've felt it all my life. I tried denying the feelings, but they wouldn't go away. You see, you guys … I'm trans-abled."

"What?" says Kyle, confused.

"Trans-abled, Kyle."

"Oh, _trans_ -abled. Okay. Let's pretend Stan doesn't know what that is," says Kyle.

"I don't," says Stan.

"Or that Kenny doesn't either," says Kyle.

Kenny says in a muffled voice, "I ov noh idea."

"I thought you knew," says Stan to Kyle.

"Hell if I know."

"Kyle, I know I'm different than you, but please try to contain your intolerance."

Kyle gets pissed and replies, "If that isn't the fat kettle calling the fat pit _fat!_ "

"Yes, I'm fat!" Eric exclaims.

"You'll get no argument from me. You're morbidly obese," says Stan.

"No, Stan, I'm ginormous. Bigger than a bread box."

"500 bread boxes!" Kyle replies.

"Ah, no you're not," says Stan to Eric.

Kyle interjects, "Wait, wait, wait – is this trans-abled thing another excuse so you can get fat? I don't care how _trans_ you are; you're not gonna shit in my bathroom!"

"Guys, I am. I'm in Staypuffed Marshmallowman territory."

"Dude – no one's gonna buy it – we can literally see you're not," Stan says.

"Stan, being trans-abled isn't something you can prove, it's all in your head. All my life I've felt epically fat."

"…the fuck?" says Stan, confused.

"No, no way. You can't just say you're something you're factually _not_. If I stand here and say I've felt like the Queen of England all my life, it doesn't make me the bloody Queen of bloody England!" Kyle says angrily.

"Kyle, it's not funny to make fun of me – I'm disabled," says Eric.

"Oh, so now what? You're gonna fake being disabled now, too?" asks Kyle.

"No, you don't understand – being trans-abled makes you disabled."

"No it doesn't! Claiming you're something that you're provably not just makes you a fucking liar!" Kyle shouts.

The school bus pulls up.

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle – being Jew-abled you of all people should understand. It's true, look trans-abled up on the internet."

"I will!"

The school bus doors close after they're seated, then the bus departs.

.

The school class bell rings. The kids talk as Mr. Garrison walks to the chalk board.

"All right, settle down you thankless bastards," they all quiet, "All right. Today we're going to talk about the short-lived TV series 'Firefly' and why it was stupidly cancelled early. It all started when some stupid bitch at FOX-" he turns around to see Eric standing in front of his desk, "Eric, please take your seat."

"I can't, Mr. Garrison."

Frustrated, Garrison replies, "Oh, why? Did somebody put gum on there again?"

"No."  
"Well, then what?"

"I'm fat."

Various kids, including Kenny, laugh.

"No shit. Now sit your fatass down so I can tell you about the Browncoats."

"Mr. Garrison, you don't understand – I'm too far to fit in the chair," says Eric.

"What? You're as fat as you were yesterday when you sat in the chair," Mr. Garrison replies.

Eric replies, "I'm super extra fun sized because I feel huge. You see, I'm trans-abled."

"Trans-what now?" Mr. Garrison says, confused.

Kyle speaks out, "Trans-abled, Mr. Garrison. It's a mental disorder liars use to convince other people of their delusional lies."

Eric again says to Mr. Garrison, "Sir, trans-abled is a serious disablement that shouldn't be made fun of."

"Oh. Kyle, you shouldn't make fun of the disabled," says Mr. Garrison.

"But he's not disabled!"

"Well, you know the politically correct bullcrap world we live in. It's best to just shake our heads and cowtow to idiotic delusions. Very well, Eric, feel free to stand there the whole class. It's probably the only exercise your fatass will get today. Okay, class, back to the black. This bitch then proceeded to humorously joke about it in a youtube video. But thankfully it appears she got canned along with every other crappy show she probably approved that took its place. The series starred the charismatic and gangly Nathan Fillion and…" he trails off after hearing some snoring. "Eric, are you sleeping in class?"

Eric looks at him while he lies on his back with a small blanket covering him, "Oh, sorry about that, Mr. Garrison. You see, fat people get tired easily and sleep a lot. I suddenly got tired. Again – my apologies."

"Fine. But if you gotta sleep, do it in the corner and try not to snore so you don't disrupt the class.""Yes, sir!" and he gets up and moves his blanket to the corner.

"Oh, come on!" Kyle shouts.

.

Kyle, Stan and Kenny walk into the school library. Kyle sits at a computer and logs in.

Kyle types, "Trans-abled," and he clicks the search button on the search engine site.

Stan comments, "Goddamnit – it's actually real. Click on that news story at The Blaze."

"Okay…" the page loads and Kyle reads it, "Let's see… yadda, yadda, yaddaaaa … holy crap. This nut job man says he felt he wasn't supposed to have his left arms, so he came up with a staged accident that crushed his arm, causing it to be amputated!"

"Since when has being psychologically deranged made somebody trans-abled? This smells like a load of liberal shit," says Stan.

"No, no, no – I'm not going to let him get away with this. After all that shit he did to join the Special Olympics and how insulting he was toward them, there's no fucking way I'm gonna let him claim to be disabled again," Kyle says, pissed off.

"So, how do we stop it?" asks Stan.

"Reverse psychology; he wants people to believe he's really fat, then that's what we'll do."

"Right on!" Stan replies.

Mr. Mackey's voice sounds over the school's intercom system, "Attention students: will Kyle Broflovski please report to the principal's office? Kyle Broflovski, please report to my office. Thank you."

"Now what?" Kyle says, annoyed.

.

Kyle sits across from Mr. Mackey.

"Um, Kyle, do you know why I have you here?"

"No, Mr. Mackey."

Um'kay, well, I got a report you were being intolerant of another person's personal beliefs. Intolerance is bad."

"First off: no, I didn't, secondly: intolerance isn't bad."

"You see, Kyle, you're doing it again. Right now you are being intolerant of my belief that intolerance is bad."

"Factual disagreement isn't intolerance. You wouldn't tolerate somebody stealing your car or tolerate somebody peeing on you. Just because somebody doesn't like that another person disagrees with them, doesn't either make that claim just nor the disagreer intolerant. The two don't go hand-in-hand."

"Um'kay, Kyle, that's very intolerant."

"You didn't even hear what I said!"

"Kyle, there's no need to yell; you're being very intolerant of my belief loud things are loud to my ears."

"Ooohhh … wait a minute. It was Cartman, wasn't it?"

"Now, you know I can't reveal the name or names of the person or persons who filed the complaint."

"Why not? It's very intolerant of my belief I should know."

"Okay, now, that's not helpful, um'kay."

"Eric Cartman can think he's twenty years from where he is now weight wise, but that doesn't make it true."

"Kyle, trans-abled is a very real and serious mental affliction," says Mr. Mackey.

"Oh, I agree – I take people who lie to get their way _very_ seriously."

"Um'kay, that's not what I said."

"Well, you're being very intolerant of my belief that you did."

"Okay, Kyle, could you just leave Eric Cartman alone about it before he has fucking CNN over here, um'kay?"

"Good point. I'll leave him alone under one condition."

"Yes?"

"He says nothing about me of Jews during the remainder of the agreement."

"Well, I-I can't really promise that, but I'll have a talk with him."

"Thanks."

.

The bell rings at school. We see Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Butters in line for lunch.

"Did you see Mr. Garrison today?" asks Stan.

"What about him?"

"When he bent over to pick up the eraser you could see he was wearing a thong."

"Noh ah," says Kenny.

"It's true. It was hot pink and fri-" he stops, hearing commotion from behind them.

They turn to see Eric shoving his way forward.

"Excuse me, out of the way, move it or lose it; trans-abled, trans-abled, make way," pushing people around as he cuts in line in front of everybody.

"Hey!" says Wendy, after Eric shoves her.

"Oh good lord," says Stan.

"Trans-abled," Eric grabs Butters' tray.

"What the?" Butters says, looming at his empty hands.

Eric stop at the lunch window, "Yeah, I'll have mash potatoes, a slice of pizza, a-"

"Hey! You can't cut in line! We were here first! You have to wait just like all of us," Wendy says angrily.

"No, you see Wendy – I'm trans-abled. It's like an express Disney pass; I go first and everybody else already in line gets pushed back another person."

"What the hell is trans-abled?" asks Wendy.

"Another thing for Cartman to use to his advantage," Stan replies.

"It means I'm disabled."

"The hell you are – Timmy is disabled, you're just fat! No offense, Timmy," says Wendy.

" _ **Timmy!**_ "

Eric responds, "Yes, exactly – I'm really fat."

"What the fuck? Is this like reverse psychology?" she asks Kyle.

"Well, it's technically true, he is really fat," Kyle replies.

"Thank you, Kyle," he turns back to the lunch server, "the mash potatoes, pizza, extra gravy, milk and the Cinnabon. Make that _two_ Cinnabons – trans-abled."

The server puts all the food on the tray and then puts a milk carton down, "Here you go, kid – try not to eat it all in one sitting."

"Thanks," Eric walks off for their regular lunch table.

"This doesn't even make any sense. Timmy and Jimmy are both disabled and they don't get to cut in line," Wendy thinks aloud.

Jimmy walks up to her, "Well, now that yo-yo-yo-you meeeeetion it, Wendy, th-these arms are starting to get tired from holdi-"

"Back off! No cut-zies!" she yells.

.

Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Butters walk up to the table. Stan, Kyle and Kenny sit on the side opposite Eric. Butters walks around to Eric's side.

"Hey, Eric."

"Butters, what are you doing?" Eric asks.

"Ahhh, I was about to sit down. Why?"

"You can't."

"No, I'm pretty sure I can."

"There's no room," says Eric.

"But … you're the only-"

Eric interrupts, "Butters, I'm trans-abled. I'm too fat to share the bench with you. I'm bigger than Ted Kennedy and Roseanne combined."

"But I can see-"

Eric interrupts again, "Butters, it's not about what you can see, being trans-abled is about what I feel. And now I know what it feels like to be Rosie O'Donnell – so huge my ass takes up an entire bench."

Confused, Butters replies, "Oh, ah, okay, I'll go sit on the other side."

Butters squeezes in between Kyle and Kenny, packing the bench seat like a can of sardines.

"Thanks a lot, Cartman," Stan says, pissed off.

"You know what – if he wants to be fat, then be fat. Wolf those Cinnabons you big-boned Beluga whale," says Kyle.

"I will," Eric replies cheerfully, picking one up and eating it.

Kyle continues, "'cause you're **fat**."

"Kyle – I'm not just fat, I'm trans-fat."

"Good, then maybe they'll ban you," says Kyle.

Stan tag teams, "Or at least stick him with a warning label."

Kyle continues the thought, "Yeah. Warning: **Fat**."

Everybody laughs except Butters.

"Okay, okay. Ha, ha, ha," Eric feigns amusement.

.

As they all walk to their next class, they pass Mr. Mackey.

"Ah, Eric, can I see you a moment?"

"All right…" annoyed.

.

They all sit in class chatting, waiting for it to begin.

Eric comes in.

Kyle says shocked, "What … the … fu-"

"Wassup, homies?" says Eric, wearing an old-fashioned 1990's rapper jumpsuit, in red, with some white. He has a large gold-colored necklace with a round clock on it, gold brass knuckles and his hair dyed black and sticking straight up.

"What the hell are you doing, Cartman?" asks Kyle.

"Oh, nothing much – just spending most my life living in a gangster's paradise, Kyle."

"You actually hung onto that thing?" asks Kyle.

"Kyle, don't be a hater."

"So, what – you got bored with pretending to be trans-abled and now you're black, again?" asks Stan.

"again? Stan, all my life I've felt – aside from being extra gargantuan – different, that I actually liked watching BET, that my hair was really just soft AstroTurf, that I had a huge penis, liked getting jiggy with it, and thought Wayne Brady was funny. That yes – I'm black-abled."

Nobody says anything for a few seconds.

"No, no, no, no, _**NO!**_ " Kyle exclaims.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric spreads out his blanket and sits.  
"Hey, wussup, Token?"

"Ah, nothing much," Token says uncomfortably.

"How's it hanging?" asks Eric.

"How's what hanging?"

"You know? 'it'?"

"My … my penis?" Token asks, confused.

"No, you know, whatever it is we fellow homies ask about."

"I play piano at a high-school level, listen to Bach, read Bastiat, and watch re-runs of 'Frasier'," Token replies.

"Cool, cool, we'll chill at your crib later," Eric replies.

"I sleep on a large memory foam mattress with 2,000 thread-count plush sheets and a hand-carved oak bed stand, not a crib."

Kyle speaks up, "Ignore Cartman; he doesn't give a crap like usual."

"Oh. You know Eric – if you put this much time and effort into a real hobby, you'd probably be wealthy by now," says Token.

"Yo, player, I'm just keeping it real."

"Real dumb," says Token.

"And real fat," says Kyle.

Mr. Garrison walks in.

"Okay class, settle down. Okay, today we're going to talk about the Big Damn Movie. Years after the cancellation of 'Firefly', the cast all returned for a feature film that picked up months later in-verse and…" he sees Eric.

"Yeah, dawg?" asks Eric.

Stan speaks, "He's claiming to be black now."

"Oh. Of course he is. So, anyway, Joss Whedon rewarded fans for their years of patience by killing off two characters…"

.

The school bus drives off, leaving Kenny, Kyle, Stan and Eric at the bus stop. They start walking home.

"Hey, dawgs, wassup?" Eric asks them.

"Dude, you're not black," says Stan.

"Don't be silly, Stan, of course I'm black.

Kyle adds, "And fucking fat as can be."

Kenny laughs.

"Kyle, don't be an intolerant racist," says Eric.

"no one's gonna buy it," says Stan.

"Why would anybody question my blackness?"

"'cause your parents were two white people you murdered, chopped up and served up on a dish. There's a paper trail," says Stan.

"No, there isn't," Eric refutes.

"Yes there is – take your birth certificate for example; their name's would be on there."

"Not ah, there are no names on the lines, so you can't prove it. Black denier!"

"Ut-oh – he may have us here," says Kyle, "His mom probably signed it, if at all. If she adopted him, her name wouldn't be on it at all."

"What? No – come on. Fine, if your parents are black, then just show us your birth certificate, wide load."

"I don't know where it is!" Eric says, annoyed.

"Careful, Stan – we wouldn't want an angry black guy especially one that hasn't eaten in the last five minutes."

"Well, if you want us to buy it, show us your birth certificate," says Stan.

"I don't have to prove anything! I feel black and that's what counts."

"Don't, then; we'll just remind everybody about it," says Kyle.

Eric stops and looks pissed off as they walk away.

.

Eric walks in the house, takes off his backpack and sets it by the couch.

" _Mmmooooom!_ "

"Yes, pumpkin pie?" she walks out of the kitchen.

"Where's my birth certificate?"

"Oh, gee, I don't think I even have it anymore."

"What? How could you not have my birth certificate?"

"I'm pretty sure I put it in storage in the basement years ago, but then the basement got flooded and I had to toss a lot of personal items. Why?"

"I just needed it for a school project – nothing important."

"Sorry about that, pumpkin."

"Fine," annoyed.

Eric heads upstairs; his mom goes back toward the kitchen.

He enters his bedroom and gets on his computer. He types.

"Where do I get benefits? Press enter … ah ha," he picks up his bedroom's landline and dials. He waits as it rings, "Yes, is this the Federal government? Excellent. I'm a minority interested in applying for Federal benefits – no, you don't need to some-day deliver an application expert to me. Okay, I typed it in. I see it now, thanks. No, I don't need a Swedish massage – thanks anyway," he hangs up and starts reading and clicking.

.

…

It's the next morning in South Park. Eric, dressed up in his insulting black-man get up, stands at the school bus stop. Kenny, Kyle, and Stan walk over, backpacks on.

"Wassup, my crackers."

"Dude, fuck off with that shit," says Stan.

"Whatever, don't be hatin'."

"Found that birth certificate yet, fatzilla?" asks Kyle.

"I'm working on it, my Jewish cracker."

"Oh, no you don't – I know Mr. Mackey told you to lay off me."

"Yes, but that applies to school. So, if that bothers you, Kyle, we can just go ahead and skip on to the Final Solution."

"Fine, asshole, but since it's a school bus, it's part of school, so it _stops_ once we're on the bus!"

" _Fine!_ "

The school bus pulls up. Kyle blocks Eric from entering and goes on ahead after Stan and Kenny do so.

Kyle, putting his hands to his mouth to mimic a bullhorn, "Everybody, can I have your attention?" they all quiet down, "Can everybody clear the isle of feet, book bags and any other miscellaneous objects so out _**fat**_ friend can get through? Thanks."

Eric looks a little annoyed and says, "Thanks, Kyle – good you're looking out for your trans-fat friend," and he starts walking.

"Wait!" Stan shouts.

"What?" asks Eric.

"I've been thinking about you, too. Turn around."

"Thank, I guess…"

Stan hangs a sign on Eric's book bag that reads: WIDE LOAD.

"Okay, back up…" says Stan to Eric. Eric then start backing up.

"Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!" Kyle exclaims repeatedly as Eric does so.

"Keep it comin', keep it comin'. Little more, little more … all right, stop," says Stan.

"Can I just sit down already?" asks Eric.

"Yeah, you're already there."

Stan takes the sign off and sits as Eric sits. Kyle walks over and sets little orange safety cones around Eric's feet.

"Remember folks – caution: he's **fat** ," says Kyle.

Kenny laughs, "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha."

"Ay!" Eric exclaims.

.

Everybody sits in class doing work. Cartman lies on his belly, holding his legs up and shaking his feet around while doing his work. He stops.

"Mr. Garrison," raising his left hand.

"Yes, Eric?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"All right, come and get your hall pass."

Eric takes the pass and leaves the class room with his backpack.

"Dude, how do you spell that space hooker's name? More-e-nah Bo … Boh … Boh-chin something or other?" asks Kyle.

"I don't know. Just put Marina Sirits – he probably won't know the difference," Stan replies.

"Okay."

"What? Stan, what did you just say?" asks Mr. Garrison.

"Ah … aaahhh…

Eric walks in, his face smeared over in brown face paint.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Stan exclaims.

"Dude!" Kyle says disgusted.

"Stan!" Mr. Garrison says, angry over the cursing.

"What up, home boys?" asks Eric.

"No! You are no black!" Kyle shouts.

"Don't be hatin', Kyle."

"That's it! Whip out that birth certificate, Fat Albert!" Kyle yells.

"So … we're birthers now?" asks Stan.

"Well, yes – but I just want to prove his account of the birth certificate isn't real."

"You see," Eric says, looking at the class, "this is the kind of oppression a young trans-black-abled man like myself has to put up with. Here, Kyle, here is my birth certificate," he walks over and hands Kyle a piece of paper.

Kyle looks at it then lowers it, "This is an armature Photoshop job."

"Sorry, hospital staff aren't as good Photoshop designers like you, Kyle," Eric retorts.

"It says above mother: Aunt Jamima and over father: Shaft."

"Shut your mouth," says Eric.

"Nice try, Mile Island!"

"Fine!" Eric yanks it from Kyle's hands, "If that's not good enough for you -"

Kyle interrupts, " _It's not!_ "

The school's intercom system whines and Mr. Mackey's voice booms o0ver, "Attention students: will everybody please report to the gym? We have a surprise guest who just showed up and would love to address you all, m'kay? Thanks," the comm. System cuts off.

.

The gym's bleachers bustle with settling students and excited chatter over whom the speaker will be. Eric sits on the gym floor, on his blanket, with orange safety cones around him and Kyle behind him holding the sign that reads: WIDE LOAD.

Mr. Mackey walks up to a microphone stand and taps the mic' head to make sure it's working.

"Quiet down everybody. Please, can I have your attention? I'd like to welcome to South Park Elementary out surprise mystery guest who showed up un-announced fifteen minutes ago, Donald Trumpp. Donald?" he moves away from the microphone.

Only a few students clap their hands, and even then in a rather lack-luster way.

Trumpp walks up to the stand and dethatches the microphone. A couple of body guards stand behind him, "Hi, I'm Donald Trumpp."

There are some coughs. Butters smiles excitedly and claps.

"I'm really rich. I just thought I'd get that out of the way. Many of you may be wondering why the hell I'm here. As many of you know, I'm running for President of the United States," he repositions his hair piece as it starts to slide off his head, "I own the greatest properties on Earth, the greatest greenways there are, the best toilet bowl that's Spring-time fresh, I'm on TV a lot, have lots of money because I'm super rich, and can have sex with whomever I want. Naturally many of you are asking yourselves: How can I be more like Donald Trumpp? It's understandable. I sometimes envy myself."

"Good lord," says Stan.

"And the world needs another Donald Trumpp. One day I'm going to be dead and running Heaven and all that will be left is the best tombstone in the world and vault after vault of my money."

"I got it," Kyle says.

"Guht whut?" Kenny asks.

"Huddle…" Kyle says to them so Eric can't hear them speak.

They move in and listen as Kyle whispers so as to not attract Cartman's attention.

.

After nearly an hour has passed, most of the kids have dozed off, except Butters, Timmy, Jimmy and Eric.

"So, in conclusion to the greatest speech ever," Trumpp again repositions his sliding hair piece, "I'm really rich and maybe my words will inspire you to be as well, even though they're mostly platitudes and commanding oration. Donald Trumpp for 2016!" he leaves the podium.

Butters claps excitedly.

"Butters, just … stop. No," says Kyle.

"But he says thing I like!"

"Come on," says Stan. They climb off the bleachers, except Butters, and make their way toward Trumpp.

"Mr. Trumpp?" asks Kyle.

Trumpp turns about, "Trumpp autographs are twenty-five a pop, boys."

"Twenty-five?" says Stan.

"Oh, now Trump-ographs are thirty bucks a pop," says Donald.

Stan asks, "What happened to twenty-five?"

"Demand just skyrocketed."

"Actually, we don't want your autographs" says Kyle.

"Oh, well nice talking to you boys. Time is money – gotta go."

"Wait – we need your help on something," Kyle says to Trumpp.

"Yes?" Donald asks.

"Our fat friend over there won't produce his birth certificate. We understand you have some experience with that."

"Boys, you've come to the right man. No one loves chasing Trumpp's tail more than Donald Trumpp."

"Ah, is that a 'Yes'?" asks Stan.

"Absolutely boys. Let's go meet you friend."

They walk over as the remaining kids are exiting the gym. Trumpp stops in front of Eric.

"Yes? I mean, how's it hangin', dawg?" Eric asks Trumpp.

"Hello. You're a fat pig."

"I know – I'm trans-abled."

"Oh, is that what they call porkers nowadays?" Trumpp says sarcastically.

Stan speaks up, "He's pretending to be black. He says we can't prove he isn't 'cause there are no names on his birth certificate and refuses to prove it."

"Black? You're whiter than Chris Matthews – and that's pretty damn white," says Donald."That's just like you crackers – always trying to keep the black man down!" Eric yells.

Donald replies, "The only thing keeping you down is two-hundred pounds and gravity. My God you're fat. Show us your birth certificate."

"I don't have to prove anything!" Eric comes back.

"Just show us. If everything checks out, ah hell – I'll call you Mr. Tibbs."

"No. Homie don't play that."

"Fine. I'm really rich – I'll find it," says Trumpp.

"It's not here. I hear it's kept in a very special place far away from me."

"Prove it or else I'm going on live cable TV and calling you out."

"Oh my God," says Eric to Trumpp.

"What?" asks Trumpp.

"You're racist!"

"What? Donald Trumpp is not racist. Let me tell you something – I know lots of black people. I employ hundreds of blacks in my many businesses. I rent out luxury Trumpppartments to blacks all the time. I bet I could name two dozen black folks who are my friend. How many do you know? Go ahead, name 'em."

"Yeah, fat-abled fat fuck – name them!" Kyle adds on.

"Ahhh … Token."

"That's one. Quite frankly, I'm surprised there's even one," says Trumpp.

"And there's that black chick with the afro balls on her head," Eric says.

"Oh, afro balls must be a nick name – every black chick I know would have bitch-slapped your Puddin' Pop face."

"Ahhhhh…" Eric starts counting his fingers, "And Chef."

"He's dead," Stan says.

"Friendship lasts forever, Stan!"

"That's it? Two people and a dead guy? A couple of which you don't even know the names of? The only struggle you're up for is thinking up lies. You have twenty-four hours to produce your birth certificate or else!" demands Trumpp, showing his right pointing finger almost in Eric's face. He reaches up and repositions his slipping hair piece. He turns and walks off.

"Yeah! What he said!" and then Stan turns around and walks off with Kenny and Kyle. He turns back around after a few steps, "About you. Not any of that crazy stuff like tariff wars and how attractive his daughter looks."

Butters smiles and claps inanely.

"Yeah! He says things I like!"

"Butters, I swear to God I will sit on you!"

"Eh, stuff it; Trumpp 2016, baby!" Butters gets up and climbs off the bleachers.

.

Eric slams the front door.

He calls out forcefully, "Mom. _**Mom!**_ "

"Yes, my opulent puffikins?" she says, walking into the living room.

"I got to know where my birth certificate is."

"Oh, I'm not sure, Eric."

"You're not sure? What if I still need it later or something?"

"We can always get a copy. Oh, and you got a letter in the mail today from the government. I hope everything is all right."

It's fine!" he grabs the letter and runs upstairs.

Once up and in his room, Eric closes his door and heads to his desk. He opens the letter and unfolds the papers.

He reads aloud, "Hola. For English, read page two. Goddamnit," he flips the page angrily, "Dear Applicant, after careful consideration we have approved your application disability benefits. Please find enclosed a voter registration card pre-checked Democrat and a postage-paid stamped envelope to Mexico. Plese find on page three a check payable for…" he flips to the next page, "three hundred and seventy-five dollars?! _**YYYEEESSSSS!**_ " he drops to his knees and shouts to the ceiling, "Thank you, _Jeebus!_ "

.

The next morning Kyle, Stan and Kenny wait at the school bus stop. Eric walks into the frame, in full rapper jump suit and bling, face again painted brown.

"What up, dawgs?"

"My blood pressure," Kyle says angrily, making fists with his hands.

"Heah!" Kenny agrees.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kyle – that sounds like unconscious racism."

"What? That doesn't even make any fucking sense! That's like unconscious bullying or unconscious whistling," Kyle says.

Eric replies, "Supreme Court Justice Antony Kennedy says we all have unconscious racism, Kyle.

"Well, Supreme Court Justice Antony Kennedy is a conscious fucktard!"

"Kyle, does my black-abledness distress you?"

"No, everybody rolling over and giving you whatever you demand distresses me."

"Well, you can kiss my big black ass."

The school bus pulls up. Kyle, Stan and Kenny climb in but just as Eric does, the bus driver stops him.

"Sorry, kid. You're too fat to ride this bus."

"What?" Eric says, surprised.

Kyle says sarcastically, "What? Did you forget you're fat-abled?"

"No, it's just…"

"Please step off the bus."

Eric backs out and onto the grass. The door shuts.

"Hope you like you're new ride, wide load!" Kyle shouts to Eric as the bus drives away.

After a few seconds another shorter bus pulls up. The extra wide door opens. The driver calls out to Eric.

"Hop on the lift, kid!"

"Lift?" Eric says confused. He walks onto a platform that lowered to the ground. The lift winds back up, pulling the platform back up to the stairs.

"Welcome aboard. The extra wide seat is in the back," says the driver. He closes the door.

Eric looks down the shorter and wider isle and sees various handicap students, including Timmy and Jimmy.

"Hey, timmy," he says uncomfortably.

" _Timmy!_ "

Eric sits down. Jimmy turns to look at him

"H-H-Hey, E-E-Eric. You want a gummy bear? It's warm and squishy; it's bee in my p-p-p-p-pooo-poooo-p-pooocket."

The bus drives away as Eric cries out while looking out the back window.

" _ **NNNOOOOO!**_ "

.

Kyle, Stan and Kenny chat in the hall where their lockers are. Eric walks over at a quick page.

"Ay! Asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Eric says, pissed off.

"You should be thanking me for being such a good friend and caring so much to help your special needs," says Kyle.

"You little Jewish-"

"Jewish what? Maybe Mr. Mackey needs to be a part of this conversation," says Kyle.

Stan then speaks, "Careful, Cartman, you're perpetuating the stereotype of an angry blackman."

"Fine! That buss has air conditioning anyway."

The bell rings, notifying all students school is beginning for the day.

"Come on," Stan says to Kyle and Kenny.

.

Everybody sits in class, while Eric sits on his blanket.

"Hey, Eric, now that you're sitting on the floor, you mind if I have your desk? I've always wanted to be closer to the fro-"

Eric interrupts Butters, " _ **No!**_ "

Mr. Garrison enters.

"All right, children, take your seats and shut up. Today we're gonna talk about the Big Damn Movie, 'Serenity', but first that guy from TV would like to say a few words," he steps to the wide.

Trumpp enters the classroom, "Good morning, I'm Donald Trumpp."

Butters smiles and claps.

I'm sure you're honored to hear my voice again but today I'm not here to talk about Donald Trumpp. You know who has a birth certificate? Any American. Unless perhaps you were born in Kenya. Let's face it – if you were born here, you got to have one. Any person either has a birth certificate or doesn't. It saddens me to report that Fat Albert over there, Eric Cartman, refuses to produce a birth certificate."

"Oh good lord," says Mr. Garrison.

"Right now I have investigators in South Park and Hawaii looking into it. You won't believe what they're finding."

Eric replies, "Wow, some TV show host really wants his parents murdered, chopped up and fed to him, huh?"

"I know you're tremendously fat but if you can take five seconds out of being megalodonicly hungry, I call on you to produce your birth certificate!" pointing at Eric. "Thank you. Trumpp 2016."

And then Trumpp leaves the class room. Mr. Garrison retakes his position.

"Okay, back to reality, children. 'Serenity' was a film based off the cancelled 'Firefly' series. It changed nothing but the composer and picked up, as I said yesterday, a few months later in-verse time from the last episode."

"Why, ah, Eric, is it true you don't have a birth certificate?" Butters asks.

"Of course not," Eric replies.

"He's lying – fat people don't have birth certificates," says Stan.

"Ay – don't make me open a can of Whoop'ass on you," Eric replies.

"Well, I guess I don't understand. If you have one, just show it to him so you can prove him wrong and gloat about how you were right the while time," says Butters.

"I don't want to," Eric says, folding his arms and looking aggravated.

Butters says, "But … why?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"Butters Stotch! I thought I've warned you about talking during class before," says Mr. Garrison.

"Sorry, Mr. Garrison."

"All right. Anyway, as I was saying: the lights were out and the back-up red cockpit lights cut on. That's when Wash said, 'I'm a leaf on the wind – watch how I fly'. Got that? Kenny McCormick, can you repeat that back for me?"

Kenny answers, "Showr. I'hm aey leaof ohn the woond – wotch how I fl-"

Just then the wall behind Garrison breaks open and busting out the hole a long metal pole flies threw the air, threw Kenny's chest, and impales him on the cabinet behind the kids, dead.

"Oh my God! They killed Kenny!"

Kyle adds, "You ba… well, I don't know who did it, but they're probably bastards!"

Eric speaks up, "Oh, man, only black-abled kid in class – dodged a bullet there."

.

The school halls bustle with noise and movement as Kyle and Stan make their way toward the main entrance for the waiting school buses. Eric walks up.

"Yo, home boyz, you wanna go chillin', relaxin and actin' all cool and shoot some B-ball at the court later?"

"You're not black, fatass. Buzz off," says Stan.

Eric replies, "Stan, I know you'd love nothing more than to see us hanging from trees, but try to contain that racism in your DNA."

"What? That's just stupid inane shit Andre Carsson and the President says," Stan comes back.

"Yeah. They also say being gay is in your DNA. So, you have DNA, so I guess that makes you totally gay," Kyle says to Eric.

They laugh and high-five each other.

"fuck off and enjoy the special bus," says Stan.

"Yeah, I'm sure Jimmy has an endless supply of jokes for you," Kyle also says.

They walk down the steps from the school entrance.

"Oh, I will," says Eric.

A car horn beeps a couple of times. Eric walks to the buses and thenj in between them and vanishes. Stan and Kyle exchange glances and quickly make their way to the other side of the buses.

"Screw you guyz, I'm going home. Peace out," and Eric sits in the bacl of a limousine and the driver shuts his door, heading back to the driver's seat.

"No way!" Stan exclaims

"How'd he afford a limo?" Kyle asks Stan.

Eric rolls down his window.

"Hey, you guyz!"

"Yeah?" Kyle asks.

"Do you have any Grey Poupon?"

"Grey Poupon?" Stan says confused.

" _AhhhHAHAHAHAHAHA!_ " Eric rolls the window up and the limo drives off slowly.

"Goddamnit," says Stan.

"Strange things are afoot at the Cartman residence," says Kyle.

.

Eric sits on the couch munching on Cheesy Puffs from an extra large bag. The theme music to the "Terrance & Phillips" show begins.

"Sweet."

The show begins.

"Hey, Terrance. Want to hear a secret?"

"Sure, Phillip."

"I-"

The program cuts to an empty room.

A voice speaks, "We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a paid announcement."

"What? **No!** " Eric says pissed off.

Trumpp walks into the empty room, "Good evening, I'm Donald Trumpp. I'm really rich. It has come to my attention that fellow South Park residence Eric Cartman might possibly not have been born in American. Now, he claims he does but won't show his birth certificate. If he weren't lying, why wouldn't he just solve it? That's why tonight I'm announcing that if Eric Cartman produces his birth certificate and it's to my satisfaction, I will give him five million Trumpp dollars. He has 48 hours to produce it or the offer is null and void," he repositions his hair piece, I'm Donald Trumpp for the greatest paid announcement ever. Good evening and I'm still really rich," the camera lights shut off.

The announcer speaks, "We now return to our regularly scheduled program already in progress."

"son a bitch," Eric says, visibly turning red.


	3. Chapter 3

Eric walks up to his locker in between classes to exchange books.

Stan speaks up, "Okay, Big Boy, where'd you come up with the money for a limousine?"

"Well, you see, Stan, all my life I've felt like I was financially well to do, so-"

"Bullshit – you're not cash-abled," Stan retorts.

"You'll never get away with it!" Kyle exclaims.

"Oh, yeah, Kyle? This isn't _Scooby Doo_ , Thelma, so shag off," Eric then closes his locker and leaves for class.

"It's okay, Kyle – he can run but he can't hide. Actually, he can't run at all really. And he wouldn't be able to hide what with begin so fat anyway, but the point is: tomorrow's Saturday, so we'll snoop around then."

.

The kids in class talk loudly as Mr. Garrison enters and stops at his desk.

"Okay, class, it's _children should be seen but not heard from_ time. So, as I said yesterday, 'Serenity' never had a sequel film but eventually Whedon wrote some comic book series of episodes that took place during and after the series. But the big damn deal came with a hard-back comic special edition that told the secret back story of Shepard Book. It turns out Book used to-"

A few quick knocks come to the class room door. Garrison walks over and opens the door, revealing a man holding a large envelope.

"Yes?"

"UPS. I got a special delivery for one Eric Cartman."

"Yo!" Eric calls out, raising a hand.

The UPS man just walks by Garrison and to Eric, "Okay," he scans the package and hands it over. "Thanks for using UPS – we're not broke like a certain other government mail delivery provider," and he fist-bumps Eric and leaves.

"Eric, you know we're in class right now," Mr. Garrison comments.

Eric replies, "Trans-abled."

"Oh, right – sorry about that, I forgot."

"But that doesn't even mean anything!" Kyle yells.

"Mr. Garrison, the white man is trying to keep me down," he says as he opens the envelope and peers in.

"Kyle, leave Eric alone."

"Big E.," he corrects Mr. Garrison.

"Oh. Leave Big E. alone."

Kyle looks pissed.

.

Kids make their ways into the halls of the school as classes change. Kyle rolls up a piece of paper into a cone shape and then uses it as a make-shift bullhorn.

"Attention, attention! Will everybody step to the side and make way for Eric Cartman's enormous trans-abled ass?! That's right, clear a path – one **huge ass** coming through!"

"Thanks, Kyle. What up? What up? You see me waddlin', you hatin'," he gets to his locker.

"Thank you," Kyle calls out to all the students.

"So, Biggy now, huh?" Stan says to Eric, pissed off.

"Or Junkie XXXL. I also accepts the Notorious F.A.T."

Kyle replies, "Well, you are notoriously fat."

Donald Trumpp walks up to them.

"My God you're still a fat pig. I've decided to sweeten the deal – only without sugar 'cause then you'd probably just eat it – to 50 million Trumpp dollars. Don't worry – I can afford it; I have a net worth – that's _after taxes_ – of eight billion; much higher than I knew," and then he points at Eric while all the kids watch, "Let him show his birth certificate. Drop it like it's hot chocolate!"

Eric replies angrily, "Oh yeah? Fine! One Eric Cartman birth certificate present and accounted for," he hands over a sheet of paper.

Trumpp takes the paper and examines it. Stan and Kyle move in to each side of Donald and look up at the paper.

"I'll take that 50 million in Trumpp dollars now," Eric says.

"Ummm, no."

"No? _What do you mean no?_ I produced it!"

"It's not to my satisfaction."

"Well," Eric makes a sound of being miffed, with a huff and barely audible wordless sound, "what's wrong with it?"

"This isn't the original birth certificate, it's a copy; it's a long form copy. There aren't even any mother or father names on it."

"So? It's just as good as the original!"

"Look at this thing – there's not even a serial number on it. There's not even a doctor's name signed anywhere; three doctors signed mine. It's so insufficient I wouldn't even use it to wipe my ass!"

All the kids laugh at Eric.

Clyde even joins in, "He's so fat he probably killed his mom on delivery."

"Ay! Shut your damn mouth, Clyde."

"Make me, crème puff."

"Tough luck, buttercup. Offer null and void," Trumpp says.

"Fine! Then you don't need to see my birth certificate anymore!" Eric yells.

"Think again. It's my patriotic duty as an American – an American with a birth certificate – to publically both humiliate and condemn those of questionable citizenship. Also, you're a fat pig. So I, Donald Trumpp, am announcing that every night 'Terrance & Phillip' is on, I will interrupt it to personally chastise and call you out until such time as you produce your genuine birth certificate. Thank you. Trumpp 2016," and with that he walks away.

"Cartman, you dick, now we'll miss parts of 'Terrance & Phillip' for who knows how long. We'll have to wait for re-runs or fucking be forced to pony up for Hulu Plus," says Stan.

Eric replies, "That's right – I'm a dick, a big black dick. Later," he walks off.

"Yeah," Stan calls out, "probably because you _**felt**_ like a dick your whole life!"

Eric calls back, "I'm waiting my hands in the air because I just don't care," while not turning to face them, as he waves his hands up in the air.

"And Butters, if you don't stop smiling and clapping and otherwise encouraging the man who's robbing us of 'Terrance & Phillip', I swear to God I'll-"

Kyle interrupts Stan, "Actually, I kind of liked some of the things Trumpp said."

" _Dude!_ "

.

Eric arrives home. After slamming the front door he tosses his book bag.

"Mom! I'm going down to the basement to look for my birth certificate!"

"All right. Oh, Eric, honey."

"Not now!"

"You got a package in the mail. I set it by the couch."

Eric stops in his tracks and makes on about face and hurried walk for the package.

Eric reads the label and his jaw drops, "Oh … my … God … _it's here!_ "

.

Cut to several minutes later. Eric puts on some darkened black sunglasses, sits down, and pops in a CD. The song "Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangster" performed by the Geto Boys plays; he cranks up the volume. He puts his feet on the peddles, snaps a finger, and starts peddling a large deluxe kids' trike. He cruises down the street in the jet black trike, with gold-colored rims, naked women mud flaps, and neon lights along the sides.

The song plays: "Goddamn it feels good to be a gangster, a real gangster-ass brother plays his cards right."

He turns onto another street as the large speakers on the back vibrate with the loud music.

Kyle looks up to see where the ridiculously loud music is coming from. He sees Eric start to pass his house. Eric looks back. He quickly flips to the song "Die Motherfuckers", again performed by the Geto Boys. Then he flips Kyle off continuously as he goes by slowly.

The song plays, "Die mother fucker! Die mother fucker!"

Kyle looks pissed and goes back to raking the yard.

Eric peddles into the park, again blasting the Geto Boys performed song "Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangster". He sees kids looking at him and so he presses a button and the bursts of compressed air sound off as his trike's front tire hops up and back down.

The song plays: "A real gangster-ass brother's don't flex nuts 'cause real gangster-ass brothers know they got them."

Unable to be heard because of the volume of the music, Wendy can be seen mouthing, "What a fucking dick!"

Eric passes by a cop car as he peddles out of the park. After a few seconds the red and blue lights flash and the car pulls up behind Eric. Eric pulls over after a couple of quick siren blasts are let out.

Officer Barbrady walks up to Eric. Eric says, obscured by the music's volume, "What's the big deal?"

Barbrady points to the trike and then his own ears as he replies.

Eric argues and yells as Barbrady keeps his cool.

The song continues, "A real gangster-ass brother never runs his mouth 'cause a real gangster-ass brothers don't start fights."

Eric makes a fist and punches Barbrady on his right knee cap, causing Barbrady to hop around while grabbing his struck knee in pain.

.

Stan and Kyle walk up to the front door of the Cartman residence.

"I've had enough; we're confronting the trans-continental ass now," says Kyle.

He's about to press the doorbell when the front door opens, revealing Eric's mother.

"Oh, boys, now's not a good time."

"We just wanted to talk to Eric," says Kyle.

"Oh, he's not home. My poor little gentile Eric has been arrested!"

Kyle comments, "Take _that_ agnostics."

Stan asks, "Is there anything we can do?"

"Thank God," Kyle whispers under his breath; Stan elbows him.

"Oh, well, yes – you can feed our kitty and let him out in about ten or so minutes to answer nature's other call."

"Sure," says Kyle.

"Thanks boys," she makes her way to the car.

They enter the house and close the front door behind them. After feeding the cat in the kitchen, they both walk upstairs. Kyle stops just short of the door to Eric's room, which Stan grasps.

"What? Are you having second thoughts about sneaking into a friend's room?" Stan asks.

"No, it's not that."

"What then?"

Kyle replies, "I'm going to do what I should have done months ago: shit in his bathroom."

"Cool," Stan opens the bedroom door.

"Be there in a minute," says Kyle.

Stan enters the room. He looks around and then makes his way to Eric's bed. He stops at the dresser/drawer stand adjacent it and picks up some papers from it, glancing over them.

"The Federal Department of Health and Human Services?" he reads the outside of an envelope. He sees no other papers there and then looks over at Eric's computer desk. He walks over and starts sifting through papers.

Kyle walks in, "Find anything yet?"

"Look at this," Stan exclaims in a bewildered tone.

"What?" he stops by Stan, "Is it that evil?"

"No, well, sort of yes – it's all in fucking spanish."

Kyle reads some, "Wait – here's some in English," he hands some to Stan as well.

Stan reads, "Disability letters? A check stub? A referral letter to steal more of tax payer's money? Holy crap!"

"Really? It's a surprise? Eric Cartman defrauding the Federal government – wasn't it bound to happen anyway?"

"So _that's_ why he's pretending to have a mental disorder – money!" Stan says.

Kyle speaks as he reads over a piece of paper, "Minority ethnicity: blackie. That rotund racist."

"Oh, nice – gotta get me one of those word-a-day calendars."

.

…

Monday morning. Stan and Kyle wait at the bus stop. Kenny suddenly materializes out of thin air.

"Hey, Kenny," says Kyle.

"Uway ueys," Kenny replies, his voice muffled.

"You sons of bitches!" Eric's voice drifts in on the wind.

"Brace yourselves – it's the call of the wild and elusive and racist Ericus Bastardizeous," says Stan.

Eric stops at them, "All right! Which one of you assholes shit ion my bathroom?!"

Stan comments, "Well, since you're the only asshole here…"

"Fuck you, Stan! I'll take a shit in your toilet so large you'll need a lake pump to-"

"Oh, bus is here," Stan says, cutting Eric off.

The bus comes to a halt and the door opens.

"School waits for no kid," says Kyle.

Stan calls out to Eric from a window, "enjoy the fat bus, fatty fat fat-fat. I hear Jimmy's got a great new comedy routine!"

.

The kids sit in Mr. Garrison's class waiting for the school day to start. The intercom system crackles on.

"Attention, students, attention: Mr. Trumpp has called for everyone to humor him in the gym again, um'kay?"

.

All the students sit in the bleachers, with teachers standing around. Eric, however, waits at the microphone stand.

Mr. Garrison says to Principal Victoria, "I wish they'd hurry up and get this thing over with so I can tell the students about the newest unconfirmed rumor of a sequel to 'Serenity'."

Trumpp walks up to the podium, with Eric stepping to the side. Butters claps his hands excitedly; Victoria slaps him upside the head.

Trumpp speaks, "Good morning – I'm still Donald Trumpp, the greatest human being who ever lived. A few days ago I offered jumbo junior over here 50 million Trumpp dollars so we could finally tell if his birth certificate even exists; whether it's real. Of my own money; I don't need anybody's money, I'm really rich. Unfortunately he missed my arbitrary deadline. But I'm proud to announce that Eric Cartman is finally stepping forward to produce his birth certificate. Whip it out, whip crème."

Eric pulls a piece of paper out of his book bag on the floor by himself and presents it to Trumpp.

Trumpp examines it, "Ah huh. Ah huh. Signed, dated and serial numbered. It is with great personal pleasure I report to you that Eric Cartman is indeed an American citizen. An ugly citizen, but one nonetheless."

"Ay!" Eric exclaims.

"Also it says your ethnicity is white, so get all that girly make-up off your ugly fat face. And try not to eat it, you fat bastard," says Trumpp.

Eric yells out, "Screw you, Kyle! Screw you, Stan! You can suck my American dick!"

Trumpp says, "It's a shame you waited and lost out on all that money. Hell – I would have donated it to the charity of your choice."

Kyle speaks up, "Actually, you can still donate; truly good charitable causes will take money almost any day of the year and truly good people won't rely on wagers and don-"

Trumpp says, "Yup, a real shame. So, in conclusion, I'm really rich. Trumpp 2016," he then drops the microphone on the floor and as he moves off his security suddenly leap to his side as two men enter the gym with automatic machine guns.

"No! I'm too Trumpp to die! Shoot that fat kid instead!"

One of the men speaks, "I'm agent Long and this is agent Johnson; we're from the Federal government; is there an Eric Cartman here?"

Mr. Garrison points at Eric, "He's the little fat kid in brownface at the mic'."

"Thanks a lot, Takei!" he yells.

The agents stop next to Eric and agent Johnson speaks, "We received an anonymous tip one Eric Cartman was defrauding Uncle Sam with false claims of being one of the privileged class – minorities; you know, people we think are better than non-minority Americans."

"We raided your house this morning and repossessed everything you purchased with the disability check, including that stationary exercise bike."

"What?! Don't you have to have a warrant or something – I saw 'Ghostbusters'!" Eric yells.

Johnson replies, "LOL, warrant? We write our own warrants now. LOL, freedom from undue search of seizure – how dusty and old-fashioned."

Agent Long speaks, "But since we'll have to sell it at auction and be at a loss, we've come to take your bling."

"No, not my bling!"

Eric struggles as the two agents strip him of his jumpsuit, clock, and brass knuckles, leaving Eric in nothing more than his hat, underwear, and shoes.

Agent Long continues, "The Federal government doesn't take kindly to monetary fraud. Only we may waste and commit fraud with the tax payer's money."

Agent Johnson says, "Oh, oh – check this out!" and he moves the clock hands and holds the big necklace clock next to Eric, "Looks like it's time to put some clothes on, LOL!"

"Your disability status has been made null & void. We consider this matter now closed. Oh, wait," Long reaches down and into Eric's book bag pulling out some change, "I could use a soda."

Agent Johnson speaks, "The Federal government thanks you for your cooperation."

They turn around and exit the gym.

"Well, that made my day. Everybody can go back to class now," says Victoria.

The gym fills with talking kids and movement. Kenny, Kyle and Stan get up and approach Trumpp. Kyle stops at Eric. He takes his coat off and places it on Eric's shoulders.

Kyle says to Eric, "I know I should be angry at you but Jesus says to forgive your enemy, love him and even give him the shirt off your back."

"Thanks, Kyle," Eric says surprised.

"I'll want it back tomorrow so make sure you wash it so I don't get any of your cooties," he rejoins the others.

Stan looks at Kyle as he joins his side.

"Mr. Trumpp?" Kyle speaks.

Trumpp turns around to face them, "Yes, boys?"

"I just wanted to thank you for all your help," says Kyle.

"No problem – it was the most rewarding tail chase ever."

Stan asks, "Where are you headed now?"

"Texas. I hear claims Ted Cruz isn't an American, so I'm going to ask for his birth certificate, too. That fat kid in a little coat over there – I'm very honored to have gotten him to release his long-form birth certificate. And the real one. But now I must move on, boys. For where ever there is uncertainty over someone's legal status, reasonable doubt over their place of birth, or somebody who will not produce their original birth certificate, there shall always be a need for Donald Trumpp. Good-bye, boys," and suddenly his hair glows increasingly bright like lightning. He makes a fist and shoots his right hand up, "Trumpp, _**HHHOOOOO!**_ " and like the rubber band warp speed effect from the Star Trek spin-off series, he shoots up into the ceiling and disappears in a bright flash of light from his hair, leaving only the echo of the sound in the gym.

"Why, God's speed, Mr. Trumpp!" Butters exclaims.

Kenny and Stan both snack Butters upside both sides of his head.

One of his security officers says, "Goddamnit, I wish he wouldn't do that," and he and the other security people quickly exit the gym.

.

They walks over to Eric as he is exiting the gym.

Kyle says to him, "Well, I know you hate Trumpp, but I hope he's taught you a valuable lesson."

"I don't hate Trumpp. In fact, we both have a lot in common."

"What?" Stan exclaims, surprised.

Eric continues, "We both change our stances and views to fit our needs ahead of time, we both call people mean names when not really necessary, we're both way richer than Kenny."

"Fwuk Yuh," Kenny says.

"We both tell lies and half-truths as our needs dictate in situations, and we both are okay with buying off and cooperating with anybody as long as that person pays it back when called later."

"Well, when you put it like that, it's not really a ringing campaign endorsement," says Kyle.

Eric rubs the brown face paint off himself with a towel from the rack next to the basket ball rack at the exit door.

Stan speaks, "I for one am glad you're finally done pretending to be black."

"Yeah," says Kyle, "Are you still pretending to be fat-abled – as opposed to just regularly fat?"

"Hey! I can be as fat as I want to feel like I am!"

"Whatever, fat ass," says Kyle.

They walk away from Eric.

"Ay! I'm not fat!" and then Eric stops, then looks down; a tear falls from an eye as he says in a low sad tone, "I'm big-boned."


End file.
